


The Two Of Us

by Writersblock42



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Horror, Implied Cannibalism, Romance, Supernatural Elements, ghost!Frieza
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-05-24 21:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14962860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writersblock42/pseuds/Writersblock42
Summary: All Vegeta wants to do is train to defeat Kakarot and maybe get laid. The ghost of Frieza has other plans.





	1. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own DBZ or the characters, that honour belongs to Akira Toriyama. I use British English spelling.

"You, my little prince, are nothing but a worthless monkey," Frieza said, leaning against the wall of the gravity machine with one leg crossed in front of the other. He held a crystal goblet in his hand, filled with a red liquid that he swirled in a slow circle. "You'll never attain the legendary."

Vegeta grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but continued his press-ups in two hundred times Earth's gravity. Sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes, and he blinked it away. "Two hundred and fifty four," he said defiantly, drowning out the lizard's chuckle. "Two hundred and fifty five."

"Ah, my boy. You forget that I practically raised you. I know everything about you and I guarantee that you just don't have it in you." He took a long, noisy slurp from his glass then licked his lips. "Your daddy lied, I'm sad to say. That kind of power wasn't meant for someone like you. you're simply too…" He cocked his head as he looked Vegeta up and down. "Weak."

Vegeta growled in response and dragged himself to his feet. Frieza let out a bellowing laugh as Vegeta shut off the gravity machine. "See," the lizard said with a nod. "You can't even make it to three hundred press ups. Pathetic."

Vegeta threw the monster a withering look, then stomped out of the machine and slammed the door.

Of course, doors didn't stop ghosts, or hallucinations, or whatever the thing haunting the Saiyan was, and Frieza walked through the wall and trotted alongside Vegeta as he made his way across the garden and around the side of a dome-shaped building.

"Where are we going?" Frieza inquired. "Are we visiting your little girlfriend? How delightful. I love seeing her and imagining all the ways I'll torture her in front of you when I get my body back." He nudged Vegeta's arm with his elbow, which did nothing at all given his current incorporeal state. "I will enjoy ripping her beautiful body to pieces and consuming it." He hummed contemplatively. "She'd make a lovely stew I think. Or perhaps a roast." He smacked his lips together sloppily.

Vegeta grimaced at the notion, and kept up a quick march. He opened the door to the woman's lab and strode in, letting the door bang shut behind him.

Bulma didn't flinch, not even glancing up from the intricate electrical board she was currently soldering something onto. "You have impeccable timing," she said, squinting at her work. "I fixed the bots for you a few minutes ago. They are in the corner."

Vegeta stood in front of her desk, crossing his arms and glaring at her. When she finally looked up and removed her googles to reveal the red lines they'd carved into her face, she scowled right back.

"Haven't you heard of wearing clothes?" Bulma yanked the soldiering iron's plug out of the socket then tossed the tool the desk in front of her. "I'm mad at you. Stop walking around like dessert on a serving tray. We are  _not_  having sex in my lab no matter how fuckable you look."

Vegeta frowned harder, hoping to hide the blush he knew was creeping up from his neck to his face. "I am only here for the bots."

Both Frieza and Bulma laughed at that.

"Whatever you say, big guy," Bulma replied, standing up and stretching her arms over her head, giving Vegeta a tantalising glance of the smooth plane of her stomach as he t-shirt rode up. "Bots are there. Get them and leave me to my work."

"She wouldn't ever fuck you again if she knew how weak you really were," Frieza commented casually, sipping on his never-empty glass. "She'd laugh you right out of her home."

Vegeta bristled, and remained standing in front of the desk.

"Was there something else?" Bulma asked, her frown shifting to concern. "Don't tell me you've broken the gravity room again."

"It is intact." Vegeta hesitated a moment before revealing the real reason he'd visited. "Earth has compositions of the melodic variety, yes?"

Bulma's eyebrows shot up. "You mean… music?"

Vegeta gave her a sharp nod.

"Yes… but you don't strike me as a music enthusiast."

"I am not. But I would like music in the gravity room regardless."

Bulma's sharp eyes fixed on him. "That won't be difficult. Probably your least complicated demand in fact. What kind of music?"

Vegeta allowed a smile to creep onto his face. "I do not care as long as long as it is something loud."

* * *

Several hours later, Vegeta was back in the gravity room with a surly Frieza stomping around in circles. Vegeta powered up and charged at the bots in time to the sounds of something that Bulma called "heavy metal".

"You can't drown me out!" Frieza screamed in his ear as Vegeta moved past him, springing off the wall to attack a bot. "You can't get rid of me that easily!"

Vegeta grinned in response, firing a ki blast through Frieza's semi-translucent form that ricocheted off the metal wall and into another bot.

With two bots down, Vegeta strolled over to the console and turned up the volume even more, until he could no longer hear the irritating voice over the thud of drums and screeches of guitars. Now he could finally - finally! - concentrate on his training.

* * *

Vegeta was in an unusually good mood, Bulma noted as she chewed the piece of soy and lemongrass chicken in her mouth. His plate was piled high, which was normal for him, but his shoulders were relaxed and he seemed to take his time with each bite instead of shovelling it down and disappearing to avoid conversation. There was even the ghost of a smile on his face.

It was hard to remain annoyed at him when he looked so damn delectable with his stupid tight white t-shirt and even tighter training shorts that she  _knew_  he wore around her on purpose. That smile wasn't helping, softening his sharp features and making him look almost  _cute_. Ugh.

Bulma picked up her water and narrowed her eyes over the glass at him. Vegeta had two settings as far as she could tell. Angry and horny. She'd experienced the former plenty, and the latter on one occasion. This was... different. Contented was not a word she'd ever thought she'd use to describe her houseguest, yet that was exactly what he seemed.

"Was the music good?" she asked. "Did it help your training?"

Vegeta looked up and the smile fell from his mouth as if he was trying to hide it, but the crinkle in his eyes gave it away. "It did what was required."

Bulma took in a sharp breath, wondering if that meant… "Did you…?"

The glint in Vegeta's eyes faded at that and he shook his head. "No transformation." He seemed to hesitate, poking at his food before looking back at her. "But I… I finally feel like it might be possible," he admitted softly.

Bulma's eyes widened. Vegeta always appeared to be filled with an unshakable confidence, so it had honestly never occurred to her that he might have doubts about becoming a Super Saiyan. The admission was oddly humanising.

"Well…" Bulma hummed softly, any remaining resentment about him kicking her out of his room the moment they'd 'done the deed' last week disappearing. "In that case we should celebrate."

"A soldier never celebrates a victory before it is won," Vegeta replied, beginning his methodical consumption of chicken once more.

Bulma rolled her eyes. The man really needed to learn to lighten up. "Surely there must be some exceptions to that." She leaned forward and placed a hand on his firm forearm, winking suggestively.

Vegeta paused with his mouth half open, a piece of chicken hovering on chopsticks. After a moment, he ate the piece then set his utensils down, raking his gaze over her. "Some exceptions might be…" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "…acceptable."

* * *

The woman lay on her side, curled against him with her chest rising and falling softly. Her hair formed a blue halo on the pillow, the ends of her locks tickling his arm.

Vegeta struggled to keep his eyes open, a heavy weariness weighing him down. He knew he should tell the woman to leave but she had barely talked to him all week after he did that a few minutes after their first coupling. He didn't mind her snubbing that much, but after having one taste of her and determining that it was something he wouldn't refuse in the future, he couldn't deny that the lack of physical pleasure since had disappointing.

But how was he supposed to know that asking the woman to leave his room after sex would invoke her wrath? It wasn't as if he had much experience with women, and besides, Frieza had appeared almost as soon as they'd finished and his taunting had been too much to deal with while Bulma was in the room.

Thank the gods that Frieza hadn't returned since the music incident. Vegeta had been half afraid he'd show up mid-coitus. But even without the tyrant's presence, at the very least he should leave and sleep elsewhere. The gravity room perhaps. Anywhere but near the only person in the universe who gave a damn about him, even if it meant angering her once more.

The monster who had enslaved him as a child might be dead, but Frieza still stalked almost every one of Vegeta's moves during the day, and his nightmares whenever he managed to fall into a restless slumber. Frieza had gone who-knows-where for now, but Vegeta knew it would be long before he came back. Whether Frieza was really haunting him or was just a figment of his imagination he knew he wouldn't get rid of the devil that easily.

It was ironic, Vegeta thought wryly as he stared up at the while plaster ceiling, fighting against sleep. For the first time in his life, he was truly free, no longer a slave and able to do anything he chose, and yet the only thing he'd managed to set his mind on was train to be stronger.

He told himself that it was to be better than that third class clown Kakarot, and that was true. No one got one up on the Prince of Saiyans and lived to tell the tale. But a deeper part of him knew that it wasn't the whole truth. No, Vegeta trained himself to the brink of death to get stronger, not just to beat Kakarot, and not for the mythical androids, but in case Frieza returned from hell, not as an apparition but in the flesh.

He shuddered at the idea, recalling the childish terror he'd felt when the lizard had landed on Earth. His knees had trembled and he'd barely been able remain standing while that purple-haired brat sliced and diced Frieza like he was a piece of fruit.

If he hadn't been shit-scared, Vegeta would have found it an amusing display. Well, also except for the fact that once again he'd been outclassed by another Saiyan. Some plebeian half-breed, no doubt.

Vegeta made an attempt to extract his arm from the woman, but she shifted in her sleep, mumbling something indecipherable about strawberries as she threw her arm across his stomach and held on tight.

With a huff, Vegeta went back to staring at the ceiling, jerking open his closing eyes every few minutes.

 _Don't fall asleep_ , he warned himself.  _Don't… fall…_

* * *

_The boy crept down a narrow corridor, florescent lights flickering with an electric crackle. The air was frigid - he could see his breath making clouds before him - and he wrapped his tail around his waist tighter, shivering as his bare feet slapped on the cold tiles._

_Vegeta knew he was on Frieza's ship, and while he'd been living on it for the last two years - ever since he'd been taken from his father - he didn't recognise this hallway, or understand how he'd got here._

_An open door at the end of the passage beckoned him, and while he knew that it would be warm through it, something inside screamed at him to turn around, to find a place to hide._ Escape _, every fibre of his being screamed._

_But his body moved almost by itself and he continued down the corridor, chest tightening with each step. As he continued his tentative steps, the lights began to blow out, shattering glass behind him and urging him on faster. He followed the lights above like a trail of breadcrumbs, focussed on the open door and the temporary safety it might bring._

_When finally reached it, he stepped into a dimly lit room, his feet sinking into plush carpet. Dark wood furnishings were arranged around a crackling open fire in the centre of the room, and Vegeta almost tripped over himself in his eagerness go get to it and warm the tips of his frigid blue fingers._

_He sighed in delight as he let the warmth seep over him and leaned so close to the fire that his scalp began to itch. It should have been impossible, a fire in the middle of a spaceship, but it felt so good that Vegeta found himself unable to concern himself with probability._

_"Little monkey." A nasal voice came from a darkened corner of the room, making Vegeta jump. "Who invited you in?"_

_Vegeta shrank back away from the fire, backing up until he hit the wall behind him. To his horror, Lord Frieza came into the light, matching each of Vegeta's steps with one of his own until the lizard stood in the middle of the fire, flames licking at his skin. Frieza was unaffected by the blaze and curled his mouth into a smile. "Well, boy?"_

_"N…no one…" Vegeta managed to gasp out. "The… the door was open."_

_"Are you lying to me, boy?" Frieza asked with a low snarl. "Would you like me to tell you what I did to the last boy who lied?"_

_Vegeta shook his head, blinking back the heat pricking at his eyes. He'd seen enough on this ship already to know that one never lied to Frieza if they wanted to keep their head attached to their body._

_"I was lost," the boy tried to explain. "And cold, and this room was open and I… I…"_

_"I… I…" Frieza repeated mockingly. "Stupid monkey, you haven't even learned my ship's language yet." He stepped to the side, out of the flames, showing no signs of burns. "But never mind, come closer." He crooked a finger at Vegeta. "Come now, you are like a son to me, dear boy. There is no need to be afraid."_

_Somehow the words made him feel more fear than he had before, but Vegeta stepped forward on his trembling legs._

_"Warm yourself up," Frieza instructed as Vegeta neared the fire._

_The Saiyan stretched out his hands once more to warm them, keeping watch on Frieza out of the corner of his eye. Even so, he didn't see the lizard move._

_One moment Vegeta stood next to the fire, the next he was being dangled by his tail above it. Frieza cackled, bouncing Vegeta up and down like bait on a hook. The flames nipped at Vegeta's skin with each downwards movement, burning holes in his clothes and pinking his flesh._

_Vegeta cried out and tried to kick at the arm gripping him._

_"Do you want me to let go?" Frieza asked, lowering him further. "I have so wanted to cook you. With a side of salad, you'll make a delicious meal."_

_"No!" Vegeta cried out in his native language, but the monster only brought him closer to the flames._

_He began to cough, his throat closing from the smoke, and unable to speak, Vegeta kicked out again. He connected with the arm this time, but found himself falling directly into the fire pit. Instinctively, he raised his ki higher for protection, exploding it around him in a violet burst…_

* * *

The bed underneath Bulma rocked and she opened her eyes blearily, half expecting an earthquake to be the cause. When it moved again, jerking her to the side, she realised it wasn't the bed at all, but the warm body she'd been lying on.

Rolling off him completely, she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The light didn't awaken the Saiyan and Bulma watched Vegeta's eyes flicker under his lids. His face had contorted into an expression she'd seen only once, when the gravity machine exploded and his protests fell away to the obvious pain he was in. His breaths came in short bursts and a sheen of sweat lined his forehead.

He was obviously having a nightmare, but Bulma was unsure what effect waking him would have. He wouldn't want her to see him like this, she knew that much. Then he cried out in an alien language - a cross between a yell and a whimper.

She couldn't let him go through this. Bulma reached out and laid a hand gently on his shoulder. "Vegeta," she whispered. "Wake up."

His hands twitched in response, balling into fists. Then his entire body began to glow, pulsing with purple light that made the room heat up by a few degrees. Bulma scrambled back, moving away from the bed, but Vegeta's eyes snapped open and with a feral cry he lunged at her.


	2. Chapter Two

 

The attack was over in seconds. One moment he had her pinned up against the wall, one hand around her throat, the other raised ready to strike, the next she found herself on the floor gasping for air.

Vegeta stood before her in his naked glory, wide eyes staring at his large, shaking hands, a stricken expression crossing his features.

"Vegeta," Bulma croaked out, clambering to her feet. She reached out to touch his hand but he flinched and backed away towards the bed. "It's okay, you were dreaming."

"Leave," he said flatly, glancing into an empty corner of the room.

"Vegeta, I-"

"I said,  _leave_." He met her gaze, his dark irises swirling pits of abject misery. When she didn't move, he clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I tried to warn you last time. I tried to…" Vegeta stepped forward, his stare flickering around the room before settling on her neck. "You are lucky I didn't kill you."

Bulma's hand instinctively went to her throat, which she knew must have red marks from his grip. "It's alright," she started to say. "It was an acc-"

"Fuck off!" Vegeta yelled suddenly, closing his eyes and placing his hands over his ears. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

Bulma recoiled. He sounded feral, as if he might snap again at any moment. Silently, she began gathering her scattered clothes, pulling them on before rushing towards the door.

Before leaving, she paused and glanced back at the Saiyan. He stood facing the wall, head bowed and shoulders slumped.

Bulma sighed, shaking her head.  _Kami_  she was a sucker for the damaged ones. "If you decide to get your head out of your ass and ask for help with whatever's going on, I'll be here," she said before slipping out the door, closing it gently behind her.

* * *

Vegeta balled his fists and scowled at Frieza, who had moved from the corner of the room to sit on the small desk, swinging his legs back and forth while continuing to sip on his wine.

"If you weren't already dead, I'd rip you to pieces," Vegeta growled.

Frieza threw his head back and cackled. "You could try, darling boy, but we both know you are too pathetic for that. While I was alive you couldn't protect your planet from me, you couldn't protect yourself from me, and you know that if I were to regain my body you wouldn't be able to protect that blue-haired minx from me either. You can't even protect her from yourself." The lizard pushed off the desk to wander in front of Vegeta. "But no need to fret. I'm sure you've scared the girl off." He looked the Saiyan's naked form up and down. "Now it can be just the two of us."

Vegeta flushed and snatched a training suit out of his drawer and yanked it on. Nakedness was a usual sight on Frieza's ship but the look the ice demon was giving him was downright lecherous.

Frieza began singing in a warbling voice. " _Just the two of us. We can make it if we try. Just the two of us. Building castles in the sky_."

Vegeta didn't recognise the tune but thought it sounded like some terrible song that an Earthling had come up with. Ignoring Frieza as best he could, Vegeta stormed out of his bedroom and headed out to the gravity room, hoping a long training session with loud music would make Frieza disappear for a while.

* * *

Three bots hovered around him, all charging their ki. Under the weight of three hundred times gravity, Vegeta's knees shook with the effort of keeping himself upright and beads of sweat coated his bare torso. When the bots attacked, Vegeta went on the defence, blocking their ki attacks as best he could under the gravity.

He managed to land a spinning kick on one of the bots, then flung himself off the wall towards another bot.

" _Boo_." Frieza's face appeared in front of the bot.

Startled, the Sayain jerked backwards. Unable to move in time thanks to the distraction, the bot's ki blast hit his shoulder, sending him flying backwards into the console.

Sparks jumped around him and a clunky whirring sound overtook the music. Vegeta swore and began to stand up, but the gravity suddenly jumped up, crushing Vegeta into the console, making it impossible to breathe, let alone move.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vegeta managed to read the gravity level. One thousand. That should have been impossible, since Bulma had told him she'd capped it at five hundred. Had she lied, or…

Frieza appeared again, leaning over Vegeta with a toothy grin. "Pitiful." He placed his hand on the wounded shoulder and Vegeta could have sworn that he felt the lizard's cold fingers digging into the deep gash the ki blast had caused.

Vegeta tried to respond, to tell the monster to fuck off, but nothing came out but a gasp.

Frieza pulled back his hand slowly, inspecting it. The blood didn't stick to his incorporeal form, but he brought his fingers to his nose and took a deep breath. "Fee-fi-fo-fum," he giggled shrilly. "I smell the blood of an Englishman." His pink tongue shot out of his mouth and he proceeded to lick his fingers dramatically, his beady eyes watching Vegeta.

If he hadn't been completely incapacitated by the gravity, Vegeta would have gagged. Frieza's predilection for eating his victims was renown in the galaxy, but he'd never attended one of the lizard's dinner parties, and had been fortunate enough to remain off Frieza's plate.

A hiss and then a pop came from the console under Vegeta, and the music shut off, along with the gravity. Vegeta pulled himself off the console, collapsing on the floor to drag in wheezing breaths.

"Weak, weak, weak," Frieza chortled, clapping his hands together in delight.

Each intake of air caused a sharp pain in his left side, and the metallic taste in his mouth revealed that the crushing weight of that much gravity had caused extensive internal bleeding. Biting down on the inside of his cheek to avoid groaning, and therefore incurring more taunts from Frieza, Vegeta dragged himself to his feet using the side of the wall for support.

It took some effort not to collapse in the middle of the lawn as he made his way to Bulma's lap, especially with the lizard's running commentary.

"You're looking pale, monkey," Frieza said, floating along beside him. "You might want to lie down and die now. It's not that bad, really, and you and I will have so much fun in hell."

Vegeta hissed in response, and continued taking it step by step towards the lab. When he finally arrived, he used the doorway to prop himself up.

Bulma didn't notice him at first. She had music playing and was scribbling on a whiteboard, her hips swaying to the music.

The corners of his vision began to darken, and Vegeta gripped the frame so hard it splintered under his palm. "Bulma," he managed to choke out as his knees gave way. He hit the floor and the next moment cool, comforting fingers were on his face.

"It's okay," she said urgently, gaze searching for injuries. "You'll be okay."

Vegeta stared up at her, focusing on the blue of her eyes, willing himself to stay conscious. The music still played in the background, and beside him Frieza sang along, reaching out to touch Bulma's hair.

" _Just the two of us,"_ he trilled, leering at the oblivious woman.

"Stay away," Vegeta managed to gasp out, realising the Frieza must have heard the Earth song in this very lab.

Frieza only laughed as the woman's expression crossed with hurt.

"I'm only trying to help," Bulma said.

"Not you." Vegeta found his eyes closing against his will as felt his body going limp, the pain finally taking its full toll. "Not… you."

* * *

The man lay pale on the single bed in a room that had become Capsule Corp's makeshift infirmary since he had arrived. And he really was a man, despite everything alien about him, Bulma thought. He might be stronger than the average human but he wasn't invincible.

She'd done a diagnostic on the gravity room and still didn't understand how it had jumped to one thousand, even with the damage to the console. It wasn't programmed to go over five hundred.

The malfunction had broken almost all Vegeta's ribs and he had multiple internal injuries. A human would be dead. The Saiyan would probably be back to training in a week.

It could have been a lot worse. She reached out and placed her hand over his, letting his warm skin reassure her of his existence in the realm of the living. If the gravity hadn't destroyed the bots as well, they might have killed him in his weakened state.

She'd grown rather fond of the man, despite his aloofness. Fond enough that she'd slept with him twice, and even after the nightmare incident she knew it would more than likely happen again. They were dangerously close to having a real relationship, as weird as it sounded. Despite her long hours in the lab and his training, they spent more time together than her and Yamcha ever had.

Bulma sighed and leaned back in the plush chair she'd dragged in here the first time Vegeta had nearly killed himself. She was going to need to make some serious modifications on the gravity room to avoid this happening again.

" _Weak_."

Bulma jumped at the soft voice, and glanced around the room. It didn't sound like Vegeta, and with the oxygen mask over his mouth she didn't think he could talk.

"Dad?" she called out.

There was no response, so Bulma settled back into her chair, telling herself she'd just relax there for a few minutes before going to fix the gravity room.

* * *

It was dark outside when Bulma awoke. She groaned and stretched her neck to rid herself of the aches she'd received thanks to dozing off on an odd angle. Next to her, Vegeta also stirred, his hand coming up shakily to tug at the oxygen mask.

Bulma stopped him and took it off herself. "Good morning, Sunshine," she said as he stared up at her blearily.

Vegeta glanced at the window and frowned. "'S'it morning?"

Laughing, Bulma shook her head. "No, it's evening. Sorry, it's just a saying."

"Stupid Earth 'spressions," Vegeta slurred, trying to sit up.

"Whoa! Slow down, buddy. You've broken more ribs than I have fingers and you are pumped full of a lot of drugs. Stay where you are. I'll raise the bed up."

Bulma fumbled for the button to raise the back half of a bed to a gentle incline. Vegeta immediately stopped struggling and relaxed back, tilting his head to the side to look at her. "You haven't been eaten," he mumbled through half-lidded eyes.

"Eaten?"

"That's good." His eyes drooped further. "I don't want you to be eaten."

"Uh… Thanks…?" Bulma frowned at the Saiyan. She hoped it was the morphine scrambling his brains and not an undiagnosed head injury.

" _Weak little monkey_ ," a scratchy voice in front of Bulma hissed.

She took in a sharp breath, glancing at Vegeta whose mouth was firmly closed. He had partially opened his eyes in the direction of the noise.

"Shut up," he growled before shutting his eyes.

"Vegeta… did you… did you say that?"

"Hm?" he questioned with his eyes still closed.

"Weak little monkey," Bulma replied, clenching her now sweating hands. "Did you say that?"

Vegeta's eyelids popped open and he frowned at her. "You heard Frieza?"

"F… Frieza?"

"Yes." He let out a sigh. "If you heard him, then maybe I'm not crazy."

Bulma felt a chill run through her as Vegeta's gaze flicked from her to an empty spot beside her.

"Don't touch her," he snapped.

At the feel of slight pressure on the back of Bulma's neck, she leapt to her feet with a gasp. "Vegeta… please tell me you don't see Frieza in this room."

"He's beside you," Vegeta said, weakly gesturing to a spot on her right. "And he wants to eat you. Or me. I dunno." And his eyes closed once more as he fell back asleep, leaving Bulma standing in an unusually cold room hoping like hell that the voice was just a coincidence and that Vegeta's babbling was due to drugs, and that the ghost of Frieza was definitely  _not_  in this room, contemplating how to turn her into his next meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my week two entry into TPTH's Vegebul Mayhem. Sadly I didn't make it to week three - I couldn't make the word count required in the time given, but I hope you enjoyed this so far! I might continue it if there is enough interest, so let me know your thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I updated anything. Sorry about that. Found some inspiration to continue this one though!

Bulma was tempted to blame the whole incident on her overactive imagination. After all, to be a scientist, one had to have an imagination that lead to discoveries outside the realm of current possibilities. Or maybe the scary movie she’d watched last night had affected her more than she’d thought. Because while Bulma knew the universe had far more crazy shit than most Earthings even dreamed about, ghosts were  _ not _ real. 

“But you didn’t think aliens were real until they showed up,” Bulma muttered to herself, glaring at the computer screen as it played a slow motion recording of how Vegeta received his most recent injury.

No, no,  _ no _ . Ghosts weren’t real. Her friends had all died and come back to life without any mention of the dead wandering the Earth in their spare time. Once dead, they stayed up there (or down there in Frieza’s case) unless they were granted a second chance at life by the dragon balls.

Even so… Bulma zoomed in and replayed the last five seconds of the video, swallowing hard. If the apparition of Frieza was not walking the halls of Capsule Corp, what exactly was that purple blur on screen that had so clearly startled Vegeta mid training?

* * *

 

Vegeta took a bite of steak, relishing the juices as he chewed. Every time he lifted his chopsticks to his mouth, his arm burned with the effort, and even sitting upright and breathing at the dining table made him feel as tired as he had training in increased gravity, but after days of being forced to eat the nutrient-rich but flavourless mush Bulma called recovery food, this was heaven. Lightly stir fried in soy sauce and garlic, just as he preferred. 

Bulma Briefs might think herself the most intelligent person on the planet, but as far as Vegeta was concerned it was  _ Mrs _ Briefs who was the real genius around here. Every mouthful that woman prepared was sublime, and if he hadn’t a need to prepare for the androids arrival he would have been tempted to stick around anyway.

“Maybe I’ll force the blonde woman to cook you and your girlfriend,” Frieza mused, sidling up beside Vegeta to bend over his plate and inhale deeply. “I’m sure she’d be able to make your stringy carcass into something edible.”

Vegeta clenched his jaw but kept chewing, even though the food now tasted like ashes in his mouth. He would not give Frieza - even an imaginary Frieza - the satisfaction of knowing that his words affected him. 

“That Bulma though…” Frieza’s pink tongue darted out. “With those curves…” he brought his fingers to his mouth and kissed them.

Vegeta risked as glance at Bulma, who sat opposite him, not eating which was very unlike her considering she’d moved onto dessert and had strawberries in front of her. She had an odd expression on her face, and he realised she’d been watching him, but he had no idea for how long.

Frieza let out a cackle, and clapped his hand on Vegeta’s shoulder. Vegeta couldn’t feel the grip, but it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Are you feeling okay?” Bulma asked, picking up a strawberry and dangling it from her fingers. “If your injuries are still bothering you maybe you should hold off on getting back into training.”

“I’m fine.” Vegeta stood up abruptly, bitterly disappointed that what promised to be a delicious meal was ruined by his old master.

“You haven’t finished your food,” Bulma snapped, dropping the strawberry and rising as well.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re  _ always _ hungry.”

“Not all of us are guided by our base instincts,” Vegeta growled out. “Stop trying to distract me.”

A flash of hurt crossed Bulma’s face. “I’m just worried about you, Vegeta. Something is wrong. You can tell me, you know…”

She kept talking but her words were drowned out by Frieza’s sudden rambling and the subsequent ringing fury in Vegeta’s ears.

“ _ Everything _ is wrong with  _ you _ , my dear boy,” Frieza said. “It’s a pity your father didn’t cull you at birth. Would have made everyone’s lives a great deal easier. You killed your mother you know, just by being born. If that wasn’t a sign of things to come then I don’t know what is.”

“Shut up!” Vegeta’s ki erupted and everything on the table flew off around the room.

Bulma remained standing, looking oddly calm even as her hair whipped around her thanks to the raging ki. “Is Frieza bothering you again?” she asked, sounding so matter of fact that Vegeta completely dropped his ki in surprise.

They stood there, facing each other across the table that now looked like a disaster zone, and an eerie silence fell across the room. Even Frieza kept his mouth shut, his gaze flickering from Saiyan to human curiously.

“How… what… what are you talking about?” Vegeta finally stammered out, the lunch he’d just eaten threatening to resurface. Gods, if she knew just how crazy fucked up he was she’d throw him out of the house without a second thought. It was one thing to invite a psychotic alien to stay when he was planning on saving her planet, but a whole other level of crazy to let him stay once she knew how unstable he was, and just how likely he was to kill them all - accidentally, probably - before the androids came close to arriving thanks to his severe delusions.

“Where is he?” Bulma asked, her tone gentle and a complete contrast to how she normally spoke to him. “When you were injured, you said he was next to me.”

Fuck. Or as Bulma liked to say every time she had trouble with one of the bots, fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck. Vegeta sat back down in his chair. This wasn’t good. She knew. She fucking  _ knew _ he was crazy.

He must have mentioned Frieza when he was high on those drugs she insisted on pumping into him whenever he got so much as a scraped knee. Gods, of all the idiot things to say. 

Wait… 

He’d clearly said something when he was high. Surely she couldn’t believe take anything he said then seriously? 

“I don’t recall that conversation,” he said carefully, laying his palms flat down on the table in an attempt to ground himself, to prevent him from incriminating himself any further.

“Hoo, hoo, hoo!” Frieza chortled, hopping up on the buffet against the wall and standing with his hands on his hips. “Now this promises to be quite the show.”

Bulma sat down as well, scraping her chair noisily to come closer to the table. “Vegeta,” she said in that same tone. Her hand reached across the table and she placed her cool fingers on top of his.

He would have normally pulled away, recoiling from any touch of hers that wasn’t specifically designed for pleasure. But he was frozen, unable to bear the weight of what was about to unfold. Frieza was right. He was weak, and pathetic, and-

“I heard him too.”

* * *

 

Bulma had seen Vegeta terrified exactly twice. It hadn’t been on Namek, when she’d seen him fight that hot green dude (who turned out to be  _ way _ less hot when he transformed), even though said green dude had been stronger than him. It hadn’t even been after any of Vegeta’s training accidents, not even  _ the _ accident,  one that had nearly killed him a few months ago. No, as he’d lain there, blood seeping from his wounds so fast his skin had gone grey, the damn man had the gumption to look  _ serene _ about it.

In fact, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, had only looked terrified when Frieza landed on Earth, and right now as Bulma told him that the purple monster he’d probably thought he’d been hallucinating thanks to a most definitely justified case of post traumatic stress syndrome was actually real.

“That’s impossible,” he said, physically reigning in his wide-eyed horror and putting on his usual mask of indifference. He slid his hand out from under hers and pulled it under the table. “Ghosts are not real.”

“I didn’t think aliens were real until recently,” Bulma said, trying the same argument she’d used for herself.

The cheeky shit actually rolled his eyes at her. “Unlike the inhabitants of this pathetic mudball, I have spent my entire life travelling the universe, and have found no evidence of the dead haunting the living.”

Bulma grit her teeth and fought the urge to growl. Here she was, trying to prove that the damn man wasn’t actually insane, and he was lording his worldliness (universelliness?) over her! “And yet evidence would prove the contrary,” she ground out. 

Vegeta opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to try tell her that  _ she _ was the crazy one, but Bulma stood up, her chair scraping noisily behind her. “Come with me,” she instructed, striding out of the dining room to lead the prince to her lab.

Vegeta followed, without complaint for once, and not a word passed between them on the walk through the complex. When they arrived and Bulma booted up her computer, his mask had slipped once more and he glanced around the room nervously.

She fought the urge to ask him if Frieza had followed them here. It would only make him more defensive and to be honest she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. 

“Watch this,” Bulma said, bringing up the gravity room footage. 

She watched Vegeta instead of the recording, and noticed his eyes widen as he saw the purple blur.

“That could be anything,” he said when she paused the footage.

“But it’s not, is it?” Bulma watched as his gaze dropped from the screen to the ground, his fists clenching and unclenching in a rhythm only he could hear.

“No,” Vegeta said finally, lifting his face to look at her. “That’s Frieza.”

Then the damn man turned and strode out of the room.

* * *

 

He turned and left her lab, fleeing the moment his boots hit the corridor, he was ashamed to admit, until he burst outside, stomach heaving as he stumbled towards the nearest bush, and promptly threw up everything he’d just eaten.

Vegeta sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself when all he really wanted to do was crawl into a ball and sob like he had when his planet had been destroyed. “He’s real,” he said aloud, trying the words out. “I’m not insane.”

Frieza had disappeared, thank the Gods, so he didn’t get any snarky remark about speaking to himself. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the mercy of being alone for long as the woman came running out after him, her face flushed from the exertion. 

He stood up quickly, hoping to avoid explaining the mess he’d made in what he now realised was her mother’s prize rose bush. As he moved towards her though, he stumbled, the strain of training too soon after injuring himself (not that he’d let Bulma know that) and the lack of food in his stomach hitting him all at once. 

Bulma, small and weak human though she was, caught his side, wrapping one arm around his waist and supporting him all the way back to the house. Any other time he would have shunned her help (except when he’d lost litres of blood, bringing him to the brink of death, but that didn’t count), but he found himself going along with her, his fuzzy brain repeating the same words over and over.  _ Frieza is real. Frieza is real. _

She didn’t take him to the infirmary, for which he was grateful. Instead he found himself in what he could only assume was her room, sitting on the edge of her soft bed, surrounded by pink cushions and grotesque sewn and stuffed animals. 

Bulma sat next to him, one hand rubbing up and down his back in a manner that was both soothing and disturbing in how much he enjoyed it. She began to ask him questions, and Vegeta found himself answering them all without a fuss.

“When did you first start seeing him?”

“After the accident,” he replied, knowing that she’d understand which one he was talking about.  _ The _ accident. The one that even he didn’t think he’d survive.

“How long after? Is he always around? When does he disappear?”

The questions kept coming, and he kept answering, until suddenly her hand stopped its gentle caress. “Lie down and get some sleep,” she said. “You haven’t recovered from your injuries, and I should never have let you back into the gravity room.”

She had the hard look on her face, the one that he knew meant she expected him to argue and she was steeling herself for a debate on the matter.

But Vegeta felt as though all the raw energy that had kept him going over these last months had been sapped, and he had no desire to do anything  _ but _ sleep. Sleep and pray he didn’t fall into a monstrous dream. “I’ll go to my room.” He made to stand up but Bulma placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay,” she said.

“But I-”

“Stay. I’ll go. Just… get some rest, okay?” And she looked so… concerned. She was the only person who had ever looked at him like that, he realised. No one else in the universe had given a shit if he lived or died. Not even his own father. And yet, here was this Earthling woman, apparently preparing to take down an undead ice demon on his behalf.

Vegeta nodded in response, and sank back into the plush bed, fighting for space amongst the cushions and bears until giving up and letting sleep consume him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Her warm hand slid over his chest, nails gently scratching him as she went lower… and lower. She let out a husky laugh as all the fine hairs on his arms stood on end and his breathing released in shudders._

_“Tell me you want me,” she breathed his his ear. Vegeta…”_

_He only managed a choking sound in response, squeezing his eyes shut with a gasp as her hand found its target._

_“Tell me, Vegeta,” she whispered again. “Tell me or you’ll need to wake up.”_

_“Wake up?” he asked opening his eyes to look at her._

_Except it wasn’t her eyes looking at him, but beady red ones set into a squat purple face…_

“Ahh!”

Vegeta’s eyes snapped open, and his relief that it was only a dream evaporated as he saw Frieza lying in bed next to him. On _top_ of the covers, thank the gods, but opening his eyes to Frieza leaning on his hand with a leering smile distorting his face was enough to make Vegeta leap out of bed.

“Good morning, my prince,” Frieza said gleefully. “Time to rise and shine. Although…” his gaze slid downward. “I see you’re already _up_.”

Vegeta felt his cheeks heat up, but he was not going to give Frieza even more fodder by grabbing the blankets to cover himself. Instead, he stormed into the bathroom adjoining his bedroom, entered the shower and turned it on cold. 

From now on he was sleeping in Earthling pyjamas until Frieza was taken care of. And then the first thing he was going to do was, as Bulma so crudely put it, get laid.

* * *

The stomping of shoes down the stairs to her lab indicated that the Saiyan prince was on his way. Bulma grinned at the noise - he was normally quite stealthy with his movements so he was obviously letting her know in advance that he was pissed at the note she’d snuck onto his dresser while he was still sleeping. And snoring actually, with his mouth open, his chiseled body sprawled out but unfortunately tangled in his sheets enough to cover all the good bits.

“I don’t like being summoned,” Vegeta said as he strode into the room, letting the door bang shut behind him.

“And I don’t like putting up with your shit every day, but needs must.” Bulma looked up at him, putting on a scowl, but she couldn’t help the rush that flooded through her as she set her eyes on him.

Freshly showered, his skin still slightly damp, wearing loose pants and a sinfully tight black singlet, he really was unfairly good looking. The worst part was, despite both of them obviously wanting to jump each other they had not had sex a third time. And all this sexual tension was driving her crazy. She had to solve this Frieza problem pronto. Hence calling in the Prince of all Grumps.

“I take it you got my note?” she asked.

“Yes… ‘Come to lab now’. Very informative. This had better be important, I’m hungry.”

And even more moody than usual. “Hungry for anything in _particular_?” Bulma asked, winking suggestively.

Instead of blushing or spluttering out a response as he might have before their fling (if that’s what they were calling it), Vegeta’s gaze turned dark. “You have no fucking idea.”

Bulma shivered slightly under the heat of it, tempted to offer to relieve his obvious tension then and there. “I think I know how to get rid of Frieza,” she said instead.

That got his attention. He came closer with a frown, until he stood close enough so she could smell which shower gel he’d used - bergamot, apparently.

“I’m listening…”

“Here’s my theory,” she said, pulling up the footage of Vegeta’s accident - the big one, not the most recent one - up onto her screen.

Vegeta folded his arms, accentuating his biceps. At least he was actually wearing a top for once, but the singlet definitely did not leave much to the imagination, and she swallowed hard before continuing.

“The day you blew up the gravity machine-”

“The day your bots malfunctioned and blew up the gravity machine,” Vegeta interrupted with a sardonic smirk.

“Minor detail,” Bulma said with a wave of her hand. “You pushed the bots far beyond what they were designed to do, and blew up the machine, creating an implosion of gamma rays that would have killed a human instantly, but _your_ heart only stopped for about 90 seconds before we revived you.”

“Lucky I’m not human then-” Vegeta started to say, “-wait… my heart stopped?”

“Uh… Bulma pulled nervously at the collar of her shirt, noticing that Vegeta’s arms had dropped to his side, his hands curled into fists. “Only for a little while.”

“And what… that was another _minor detail_?”

“Yes, well I didn’t think it mattered considering we brought you back easily enough.” Seeing Vegeta’s face harden to granite, Bulma fluttered her hands at the computer screen. “Watch the footage. See, this is the security cameras from the house.”

On screen the spherical gravity machine imploded, its white metal panels sinking inwards, before a fiery explosion erupted them back out, sending debris all over the yard. Bulma watched a grainy version of herself run out and scrabble through the rubble until Vegeta’s hand burst out.

“I was alive then,” Vegeta said, leaning forward and placing one hand on her desk and the other on the small of her back so casually Bulma almost believed it was an accident.

“Just keep watching.”

Yamcha came running out, then left, and then a crew of medical staff that Capsule Corp kept on hand came onto the scene.

“There,” Bulma said, pausing the scene as a limp Vegeta was loaded onto the stretcher. She slowed down the footage to better take note of the details. “Your heart has just stopped - that’s the doctor telling me now. They are bringing out the crash cart, and they are about to revive you... just as they power it… Did you see it?”

“Purple.” Vegeta straightened away from the desk, his fingers curving into her back with the slightest of pressure. “More fucking purple.”

Bulma nodded, then turned off the screen before turning to face him. He stared at her silently, his hand resting on her hip now, his eyes black pools searching hers. “How?” he asked quietly.

“I think that somehow, Frieza used your temporary death to cross over, at least partly. The gamma rays caused some kind of interdimensional disturbance, and as you were pulled from one realm to another, Frieza came with you.”

“But he doesn’t have a body,” Vegeta said. “So his spirit is here, but he isn’t whole.”

“Exactly. So now all we have to do is kick him back downstairs. Easy peasy.”

“Easy peasy,” Vegeta repeated, the words rolling off his alien tongue in an odd, but completely adorable manner. “And how do we accomplish this _easy_ task?”

“Simple.” Bulma couldn’t help but throw him a grin. “I’m going to kill you.”

Vegeta sucked in a breath then licked his lips, the movement giving Bulma the urge to lean forward and kiss him. “I see.” He rested his free hand on other hip, his gaze drowning her with its intensity . _Kami_ , if she’d known suggesting she was going to kill him turned him on she’d have threatened it ages ago. “Kill me to break the connection with this realm, thus sending him back where he belongs.”

“With the help of a controlled gamma explosion,” Bulma added.

“And my death… is another temporary one.”

It wasn’t worded as a question, but Bulma nodded anyway.

The corner of his mouth crept up as he stare turned wicked. “And will you be granting any last requests before you slay me?”

“That could be arranged,” Bulma replied, sliding her hands up to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin radiate through the thin material.

Vegeta leaned forward until his mouth was a breath away from hers. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me I died,” he murmured, frustrating her by not closing the gap between them.

“You only missed a few heartbeats. It’s not that big a deal,” Bulma retorted, before yanking on the front of his singlet and leaning in herself, pressing her lips to his.

He responded enthusiastically, deepening the kiss and scooping her up and sitting her on her desk before standing in between her legs and pressing his hand body against hers. Damn, if only she’d had the forethought to wear a skirt instead of pants. Vegeta was primal, claiming her with each burning touch, each flick of his tongue as he moved from her mouth to explore her neck, finding that sweet spot that always made her gasp.

“We need to stop,” he mumbled against her skin even as his hand slid up her shirt and her hands explored the belt of his pants.

“Um… we really don’t.” She sighed against him, arching her back to get even closer.

Vegeta pulled back abruptly, taking a few steps backwards, the rise and fall of his chest and the suspiciously large bundle in the front of his pants the only indication that he was bothered. Meanwhile Bulma was a panting, sweaty mess, and she couldn’t even form the words to complain about stopping before they’d even really begun.

“You need to kill me first,” Vegeta said, his voice cracking slightly. Okay, he was definitely as affected as her. “I can’t stand the thought that… that he might be watching.”

Bulma didn’t need to ask who _he_ was. “That didn’t stop you before.”

“I didn’t know he was real. I thought I was…”

 _Crazy_. The poor man had honestly thought he was going mad. No wonder he was so damn crotchety all the time.

“Okay,” Bulma agreed, sliding off her desk and praying that he wobbly legs kept her upright. “I’ll kill you tomorrow.” She managed to walk up to him and placed a finger in the middle of his chest. “But after that, you and I are making up for lost time.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma sets her plan to get rid of ghost!Frieza in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't own DBZ or the characters, that honour belongs to Akira Toriyama. I use British English spelling.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Bulma asked, measuring out the exact dosage that would kill the Saiyan prince, and the dosage that would restart his heart before placing them on the metal trolley beside her.

Vegeta sat shirtless on a stretcher in her lab, wearing only a pair of loose boxer shorts. With his feet planted firmly on the floor and hands wrapped around the metal edges of the bed he was obviously nervous, but he clenched his jaw at her question. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Alright, big guy. I’m going to attach this to track your heart beat…” Bulma ran her hands across his pecs as she attached the the ends of the monitor to his chest. At the touch, Vegeta breathed in sharply, his abs rippling. His eyes tracked her every movement with a wild look that made her suspect he was tossing up between fleeing or pouncing on her.

“And now the IV, okay? You’ll feel a pinch.” Bulma inserted the peripheral IV, and to his credit, Vegeta didn’t flinch as the need slid into the sensitive skin of his elbow pit. She paused before inserting the IV line. “Once this is in, I’ll inject the serum. If won’t hurt, but you’ll feel woozy real fast. If you’re ready, then lie on down.”

Vegeta opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, then snapped it shut and began to lie down. Before he could, Bulma stopped him, putting her hand on his shoulder and setting the line back on the trolley.

“Wait,” she said breathlessly.

“Hurry up, Woman,” Vegeta growled. “I-”

Bulma cut him off by pressing her lips to his, suddenly desperate to feel him warm and alive. Vegeta responded with a growl, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. She was vaguely aware of the heart monitor beeping faster as his hands found their way to her back and crept up the back of her shirt, every movement making her shiver. She pushed in between his legs, grinding up against him. Her own hands explored him, carefully avoiding the heart monitor ends, as she ran them down his smooth chest to the ridges of his stomach where his fine hair began to trail into his pants.

Just as Vegeta’s hands made their way the her front, fumbling at the button of her pants, Bulma wrenched herself away with a gasp, frustrated as hell, but also resolved that a quick fuck on a hospital bed would not change the fact that she still had to kill him.

“Why the fuck are you stopping?” Vegeta’s naked chest rose and fell heavily as he stared at her with dark, heavy lidded eyes.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to wait until Frieza was taken care of,” Bulma reminded him as she straightened her top and tried to steady her breathing. “I just wanted to make sure you had a good enough reason to come back.”

Vegeta raised his eyebrows incredulously. 

“And if you don’t, it will be  _ three _ whole months before I can with you back with the dragon balls... so maybe I needed something to keep me going too.”

Vegeta blinked, his face flashing with surprise before he frowned at her. “Surely there are other human males who can uh…” His face darkened to a deep red. “Satisfy… uh…”

“Not likely,” Bulma said, interrupting him before he choked with embarrassment. “You’ve spoilt me for sex with anyone else.” She dropped her gaze and let it linger on his not-so-subtle package before looking back up and throwing him a wink. “So you’d better get your hot ass back here so I can show you exactly how much I appreciate it.”

She didn’t think it was possible, but Vegeta actually coloured even more, the flush creeping right down his neck.  _ Kami _ , for a semi-reformed murderer he was so damn cute. 

“Just kill me now,” he mumbled, then lay down on the stretcher with a huff.

Bulma couldn’t help but chuckle. Sure, thirty seconds before killing the man probably wasn’t the best time to bring up exclusivity, but she doubted he was going to be tapping any ghost ass in the afterlife, even if he did remain dead for longer than intended. And hey, this  _ was _ Vegeta. The man who was totally turned on by the idea of her killing him to get rid of Frieza. Maybe thirty seconds before death was  _ exactly _ the right time.

“Alrighty…” Bulma attached the IV line to the peripheral then picked up the serum that would stop his heart. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.” She carefully squeezed out the air bubbles of the injection, then held it up to the line. 

Vegeta met her gaze, his teeth gritted, and gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Before she could change her mind, Bulma slid the needle into the line and injected the serum. 

Within twenty seconds, Vegeta’s gaze, which hadn’t left her face, began to glaze over. As his eyes fluttered shut, and the beeping of the heart monitor slowed, she took his hand in hers, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to fight off her sign of affection. “See you soon,” she said softly. 

He showed no sign of having heard her, and three seconds later the slowing heartbeat faded to a solid beep. 

Bulma stared at her watch, waiting for the second hand to circle twice. Two minutes. Not long enough to cause Vegeta any permanent damage, but it felt like an age watching the seconds pass by. Of course, she had no idea if it was long enough to severe the connection between him and Frieza - genius she might be but the supernatural was not something one got a PHD in. Still, it was the only idea she’d had, and as long as his body reacted to the epinephrine she’d prepared to restart his heart, at the very least it couldn’t make things worse. 

Every few seconds, she glanced at the Saiyan. He looked as though he were merely asleep, but even if she hadn’t been the one to administer the killing dose that stopped his heart, she’d have known he was dead. His energy, which crackled every time he entered a room, had completely disappeared. Bulma couldn’t sense ki, not like the Z fighters, but she could tell whenever Vegeta was in the room, and right now… he wasn’t there.

Five seconds before the two minutes was up, Bulma picked up the epinephrine injection. Two seconds before the two minutes was up, she held it over his thigh. And at exactly two minutes, Bulma jabbed the needle in, pushing the plunger down. 

After she pulled the now empty injection out, she stared at Vegeta’s face, waiting for signs of life to return. The heart monitor continued its steady tone, and as the seconds faded on Bulma help her breath, suddenly terrified that she’d failed, and that he wasn’t-

_ Beep. _

_ Beep. _

Bulma let out the air in her lungs with a cry at the same time that Vegeta took a deep breath in. 

“You had me worried there for a moment,” Bulma said with a shaky laugh as she helped him sit up. 

Vegeta blinked slowly, the disorientating effects of the drug obviously hitting him. When he put a hand to his head, wincing, she handed him a glass of water. But he didn’t take it, giving the glass, and then her a suspicious look.

“For goodness sake, Vegeta. It’s just water. I’m hardly going to poison you after killing you then bringing you back to life.”

The Saiyan opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again, before taking the glass from her, and sipping it. Something akin to pleasure crossed his face, and he closed his eyes serenely. “Who would have thought,” he drawled in an odd tone. “A simple glass of water would taste so…” His stare met hers, and his lips curved into a smirk that was so cold, so devoid of any real emotion that the hairs on the back of Bulma’s neck stood up. “... delicious.” He drank the rest of the glass, then set it down on the metal trolley. “I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve been in hell for as long as I have.”

“You were only there for two minutes,” Bulma reminded him, taking a step back as he swung his legs off the bed and stood, that same creepy smile still on his face.

“Was I?” His head tilted as he looked at her, and his tongue shot out and ran across his lips. “It felt like much longer.”

Bulma swallowed hard, and took another step back. “Vegeta?” She whispered his name, but she already knew. The man standing in front of her was...

He lunged at her, and even though she saw him coming, his movements still sluggish from the drugs she’d administered, the sick realisation hitting the pit of her stomach froze her to the spot. His hand clasped around her neck and he slammed her against the wall, letting out a raspy laugh. Bulma’s head spun at the impact and she clawed at his hand, terror setting in as she only managed to gasp in a slither of air.

His mouth widened into a feral grin, and he pressed his nose against her neck, making her skin crawl even as she struggled to suck in a breath.

“Ah, Miss Briefs,” Frieza murmured in a cold, slippery voice. “It’s finally just the two of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be the end. It is a horror, after all. But... I kind of want Vegeta and Bulma to finally get it on without supernatural interference... What do you all think. Should I continue, or let it fade to black?
> 
> And for anyone questioning when I will update Out of Time, I have not abandoned it, just needed some time apart!


End file.
